


Madam Director (or: "Booyah")

by ShinyKipp



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: BDSM elements, Canon Trans Character, F/F, F/M, Multi, PWP, Sub!Barry, pls enjoy, this was two prompts that became one fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 19:32:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13596861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShinyKipp/pseuds/ShinyKipp
Summary: Barry’s always the one in control. Barry’s the one who presses into her, Barry’s the one who sucks marks into her skin, and Barry’s the one who watches her lose it. It’s Barry who brings her to a shivering orgasm (or two or three or four) and tells her how pretty she looks spread out underneath him.But that’s their dynamic when it’s just the two of them, toying with each other and winding each other up until they fall into a versatile rhythm.Lucretia joining their encounters shakes things up, a little.





	Madam Director (or: "Booyah")

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift for an anonymous friend! Merry Candlenights from your surrogate gift-giver, lmao.
> 
> Thanks for Emi for the fabulous beta! ([Here ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emi_rose/pseuds/emi_rose)on AO3)
> 
> ((Lup is socially transitioned in this one.))
> 
> Enjoy!

The evening is less of a ‘role reversal’ and more of a ‘scramble the roles in three different directions,’ Barry thinks.

Barry’s always the one in control. Barry’s the one who presses into her, Barry’s the one who sucks marks into her skin, and Barry’s the one who watches her lose it. It’s Barry who brings her to a shivering orgasm (or two or three or four) and tells her how pretty she looks spread out under him. 

But that’s their dynamic when it’s just the two of them, toying with each other and winding each other up until they fall into a versatile rhythm.

Lucretia joining their encounters shakes things up, a little.

“Step on him.” Lucretia says, plain and directive from her seat in the plush chair in the corner.

Lup obeys in an instant, and the heel of her stiletto digs into his achingly hard cock. 

Barry gasps a sharp noise and curls in on himself, body trying to escape the pointed contact even as his hips lurch up against her. “Wow.” Lup sighs, and she presses harder against him. “He looks so pretty like this, doesn’t he, Keesha?”

His knees ache and his shoulders are sore and she’s  _ stepping on him, _ but the pain and the want set him ablaze.

“He really does.” Lucretia stands and walks over to them, poised and even-keeled. She’s not as tall as Lup and barely an inch taller than Barry, but something about the set of her shoulders makes her strike an imposing figure. She doesn’t touch him, she  _ never _ touches him, but she lays a hand on Lup’s shoulder.

He bites his lip. It’s not him, she doesn’t give him that kind of attention, but the hand on Lup’s shoulder trails down across her chest, briefly slipping under the line of knots decorating her torso, and comes to rest over the curve of Lup’s hip. Barry shivers.   
  
“You like how we look too, Bear?” It’s barely a whisper, a mumble that parts her lips as Lup’s fingers come and clasp at his chin, dragging his face up to look at her. He can only wonder what he looks like as her lips part when she sees him. The faintest breath of a moan escapes her, but Lucretia’s hand tugs at one of those knots, giving Lup a not-too-subtle reminder to keep her cool.    
  
They do look spectacular: Lucretia’s strong body drapes neatly against Lup’s more lithe frame, Lucretia’s hands drag over Lup, moving to squeeze at her breasts for just a moment before she steps away from Lup and over to the bed—

 

Lucretia picks up their switch, and Barry gulps. Lup’s hand tenses under his chin. 

Have her nails always been this sharp?

Maybe; he doesn’t know. What Barry does know is that they sting when they drag up his face, and he can feel heat rise to the red welts she leaves on his cheeks. He winces, biting his tongue, but his mouth falls open again at the singular sound of a riding crop slicing through the air.  

“Give me colors.” Lucretia’s voice comes from somewhere behind him. Barry feels the crop brush over the back of his neck, down his spine, and stop just below his tailbone.

“Green.” Lup says first, and she looks to Lucretia. Her eyes widen, and she follows the surprised look and command Barry can’t see with a “Yes, Ma’am,” before she kneels in front of Barry.

His eyes flick to Lup for a moment. She’s looking at him, too, her pupils blown, her hands clasped gently on her knees. The ropework down her front is impeccable: four knots trailing from her neck to her navel, the spaces between them pulled wide by the rope wrapped around from her back. The knots bite into her skin just a little, and he can see red marks from the tension forming between her breasts. 

Lucretia’s voice is gentler, even as the crop tapping against his ass snaps him back to attention. “Barry, give me a color.”

He wishes he sounds a little less desperate when he rasps out: “Sorry, green.”

Lucretia hums, and Lup looks behind Barry again. “Good. Green,” Lucretia supplies for herself.

And the cracking sound is blunted by the magic that pads the room. Barry’s eyes fly wide before they roll and shut, his body leaning forward and his toes curling against the strike.

She strikes him again, and he bites back his yelp. It stings, but there’s something else—a crossing of neurons, a metaphorical twisting of the wires—that turns the heat from the sting against his ass and the burn from Lup’s nails on his face into a heavy weight that settles in his gut and makes his cock twitch. 

“Fuck, babe.” Lup says, and he fights to open his eyes as Lucretia peppers him with three lighter swats and one harder blow, “You’re  _ leaking _ .”

“Oh,” is his eloquent response, but it’s swallowed up by Lup’s mouth as she leans forward to kiss him, hands moving to tangle in his hair and tweak at his chest.

She rolls one of his nipples between her thumb and index finger before dropping her hands to  _ his _ ropes, touching his still-pink hands before dropping lower to wrap a hand around his cock. 

Barry’s eyes drift shut again, and he moans, hot and heavy, into the deepening kiss. 

“Wow.” Lucretia’s voice drifts past where he’s floating, and he hears her pad across the room. 

There’s another _ swish-crack _ , and Barry reflexively tenses even as the crop doesn’t strike him.

Instead, Lup jolts forward, inhaling so sharply that she sucks the wind out of him and yanks his upper body against her. 

Three more strikes, and Lup is practically in his lap, panting against his neck and rutting her hips against him. 

Barry turns his head and catches her ear in his mouth, forced to pleasure her without his hands.

Lup wails, caught between them as Lucretia brings the crop down over her ass and thighs, and Barry can see each strike land when he opens his eyes. The black leather leaves angry red marks across his lover’s body, and it’s  thrilling to realize he must have those marks, too.

Lucretia tapers the impacts slowly, leaving a few smaller, pinker welts on the tops of Lup’s thighs before she helps the other woman to her feet. “Help me with Barry,” she requests, and he resents the thought that he can’t get up on his own until Lucretia directs: “Stand up, Barry” and his legs just.

Don’t move.

They each loop an arm under his elbows, and he stumbles to his feet with a quiet ‘fuck.’

Lup kicks the pillow they had him kneeling on to the side, but in spite of the padding, his legs begin to tingle as his circulation comes back. 

Lucretia guides him to the bed, resting a hand on his shoulder, and his body buzzes at the contact. She guides him onto his back before she steps away again, gracefully returning  to the chair.

“You know.” She hums, and Barry watches Lup stand at attention, hands pressed to her thighs, “You two look  _ really _ good together.”

“Thank you.” Lup answers, and Barry mumbles his ‘thanks.’

“Barry,” she addresses him and nods at Lup, crooking one finger. It sends a visible shiver down Lup’s spine, and Barry wishes he could see Lup respond to Lucretia’s hand making that motion  _ somewhere else. _

There’s a long beat of silence while Lucretia directs Lup to turn around and deftly unties a knot, the sound of sliding rope  filling the quiet room.

He eventually picks up on the cue. “Yes, Ma’am?”

“I’ve been told,” she lilts, and the ends of the rope fall from between Lup’s legs. Quickly, Lucretia picks up the ends and rewinds them into a more simple harness, leaving Lup much more accessible. “That you’re very good with that mouth of yours.”

He flexes his fingers and blushes. “I—I guess.” 

“You guess.” Lucretia parrots, “That’s alright.” She gives Lup a punctual swat on the ass and points to where Barry lays supine. “If you don’t have a complete answer, I’ll form an opinion myself.”

Lup picks up on Lucretia’s suggestion immediately, and it only surprises Barry a little bit when she crawls  onto the bed and then onto  _ him, _ pausing for a moment with the pads of her fingers pressed tenderly into his cheek.  _ Ah. _

“Show me what you do if you need me to stop,” Lup murmurs and nudges her hips down against him. Barry can’t stop the (automatic, desperate) way his tongue darts out to reach at her, pressing with a practiced precision at the tip of her clit and making her shiver against him. He thinks that  _ maybe _ he hears Lucretia take a sharp breath. At the same time, he sends out a simple peal of magical energy, as cool and clear as the ringing of a bell. “Good.” 

Lup presses past his lips, it’s suddenly ten times harder to breathe, and his hands clench and unclench in their restraints as he opens his mouth against her. It’s sloppy and he knows it; the way he paints her with his tongue and cranes his neck to take as much of her as he can into her mouth makes a mess of him, but any worry is distant and blunted by the way one of her hands knots in his hair and tugs him closer. 

“Oh,  _ yes _ , Barry, just like that.”

She grinds down, moving herself against him. 

Lucretia is out of his sight again, but the knowledge that he’s being watched is enough to send pulses of heat through his body. The possibility that  _ she might even be touching herself  _ is almost too much.

Barry moans and rocks his face against Lup’s clit, pushing her against the back of his throat and moaning at the sensation. His air is thin when he manages to catch it between moments of dizzy breathlessness, and he wishes,  _ wishes _ he could rub at her clit, finger her, do  _ anything _ more than press his mouth against her.

She must read his mind, because he feels her body twist as she murmurs a spell and pushes a finger into herself. 

“Like that, yes,” she moans, riding his face and pulling his hair back to angle herself deeper. 

He fights his gag reflex, the surging feeling in his stomach somehow strengthening the hot coil tightening deep inside of him, and his hands fly up to press against Lup’s back. It’s the most he can do to rock her against him, and it’s evidently enough, because Lup starts her tell-tale babbling: “Oh, oh fuck, yes, yes,  _ yes! _ ” and her body locks up, legs tensing on either side of his head. 

He attends to her through her climax, kissing and licking at her as she pulls his hair until she comes down, and she drags herself off of him with a noise of effort. Her heels click on the floor as she returns to standing at attention, flushed from her cheeks to her chest. 

“Very good,” Lucretia lauds, and the simple praise makes Barry shudder. 

“Thank you, Ma’am.” Lup says, and Barry echoes her once more.

“I think,” she sounds tentative, and Barry watches her cross the room to Lup. She cups Lup’s  cheek. “I think he did a good job, don’t you?” 

“Oh, yeah, he, uh, he did great!” Lup seems disoriented, her eyes flicking from Lucretia’s lips to Barry and back to Lucretia’s lips for just a moment.

And if they looked good draped against each other, watching them kiss is downright theatrical. Lucretia’s hands slide over Lup’s body, tugging her closer by the ropes. Lup moans into her mouth, ears drooping and body rutting forward into the heavy-handed embrace.

They pull apart with a lewd noise, and Barry sees a thin, slick thread of saliva connect them for a moment before it snaps when Lucretia speaks: “I couldn’t see too much, from where I was sitting.” There’s a tentative undertone Barry hears for the first time. “I wonder if I could take a try myself, just to  _ really _ know that he did a good job.”

Heat surges through him at Lucretia’s proposition. Barry’s watched her come, watched Lup eat her out, watched Lucretia finger herself to the two of them fucking, but she’s never,  _ never _ allowed him to put his mouth on her.

And she’s asking Lup for permission as if he were some sort of  _ toy. _

It would strike him as degrading, at any other moment.

Right now, it makes him ache.

“I think that is a  _ great _ idea, Keesha.” Lup responds, still not looking at Barry. “I have an idea, too, if you’ll let me.”

“Oh?” Lucretia asks, and Barry gasps as she approaches the bed and swings a leg over his head. She rests high on her knees, but if she just lowered herself a  _ little bit— _

“and what would that idea be, Lup?” 

Lucretia faces the foot of the bed, and Lup yanks off her shoes and climbs over Barry’s body to face the other woman. 

After all the buildup, he expects more preamble than what Lup gives him before she drops onto his cock.

“Oh,  _ shit _ ,” Barry swears, trying to raise his hands to grab at something, anything, but Lucretia pushes them down and lowers herself onto him. 

“Oh, that  _ is _ a good idea. Good girl,” Lucretia murmurs, her fingers weaving with his as she grinds down against him.

It’s embarrassing how Lucretia holding his hands makes his hips lurch upwards into Lup, but the near-suffocating press of her hips over his mouth distracts him from any lingering feelings other than the burning lust blossoming through his body, and he sets his mouth to work. 

Barry drags his mouth over her, lapping at her clit, dipping down to her entrance, curling his tongue against her.

Lup is tight and hot around him; it feels amazing, but what really sends a bolt of heat rushing through him is Lucretia keening, “Oh, oh, oh my God,” as she rocks her hips against the rhythm of his tongue. 

He rubs his lips across her clit before finally dipping his tongue into her and spinning it in slow circles across her trembling walls. Lucretia shoves herself down onto him, and it’s not any easier to breathe.

He feels himself tense, a peak quickly approaching as he buries himself in the women above him. Lucretia is wet and a little bitter, and taking a breath of her when he catches air almost topples him over the edge.

Lup’s voice grounds him: “He’s close, Keesha, I can feel it.” She snaps her hips against him, and he tries,  _ tries _ to match her pace. They’re both pinning him, though, and it restricts his movement almost as much as his breathing. 

Barry settles for an open-mouthed groan against Lucretia, lapping at her dutifully as her thighs tighten around his head. 

He feels the back of Lup’s hand brush his chin, and a bit belatedly realizes that she must be touching Lucretia too. There’s also the faint pressure of her fingers against his shaft as Lup rides him; he wishes his hands were free to touch her, too, but it’s forgotten the instant Lucretia squeezes his fingers again.

Lucretia starts to moan, but there’s the unmissable sound of kissing and Lup’s quiet teasing: “You like my boyfriend’s tongue on your clit, don’t ‘cha?”

And Lucretia pushes against him with a muffled shout, thrusting against his tongue and Lup’s fingers as a powerful orgasm wracks her body.

He follows her over the edge, groan muffled as she rocks, trembling, against him. 

He hears a familiar, “Oh, wow,  _ fuck _ , you both—!” and lets his eyes flutter shut once more as Lup milks the last echos of the waves of sensation wracking his body. 

They all breathe heavy for a moment, Lucretia’s hands slowly but accurately freeing his hands and then attending to Lup’s bonds. 

He goes without contact for less than a second, and Lup slides up his side and buries her face in his neck. Her breathing is still quick, and he follows his intuition, wrapping her in his arms..

It’s grounding to feel her, and he lingers in the soft, warm embrace before the sweat sheening his skin starts to cool and he opens his eyes to find Lucretia in the room. 

There’s only a second where he can see her before a big blanket falls over them, and he scoffs at the timing before Lucretia adjusts the blanket and slips under it to join them.

She presses something into Barry’s palm, and he holds it out, brows rising, to discern the fine print on the label. “Magnus isn’t going to like this,” he says, recognizing the colorful label as a piece of hard candy.

“I do think he’ll find it in his heart to forgive me.”

“Heeeey.” Lup whines, not moving her face from Barry’s neck but quirking her ears in the direction of the crinkling candy wrapper, “where’s my treat?”

Barry and Lucretia both giggle at the way a dainty elven hand pops out from under the blankets, and Lucretia drops the candy into Lup’s open palm before she drags her hand back under the covers. 

They pass a few seconds in silence, both women snuggling close to Barry, Lup leaning in to kiss Lucretia lightly on the nose. 

“That was really something.” She says, dancing fingers across Barry’s chest before Lup catches her hand. “Thank you both for trusting me with this.”

“Yeah, of course, Luce,” Barry provides, “it’s not like—it’s not like you don’t do some, uh, really good things.”

“You take  _ real _ nice care of us.” Lup adds, her other hand resting over Barry’s heart. 

She nods and tugs the blanket a little closer. 

Barry sighs, body exhausted in ways he doesn’t think he’s ever been exhausted before. The last bit of candy is sweet on his tongue and Lup and Lucretia are warm against him.

“—falling asleep.” Lup says, and Barry opens his eyes to look at her.

“Huh?”

Lup smiles, bright eyes glinting. “Nevermind, you’re beat, babe.”

“Literally,” Lucretia quips. “We’ll debrief later. For now, rest, Barry. You earned it.”

“Sure did,” he mumbles back, and the warmth is a gentle pillow that catches him as he falls. “Sure did.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on Tumblr @ Kippdom!
> 
> Also, if you _haven't_ read the fabulous fic [ "from the wreckage build a home,"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12669651/chapters/28880979) by Tinwoman, then I cannot recommend it enough! It's beautifully plotted and written, got my gears turning about Blupcretia in the first place, and gifted us the nickname "Keesha."


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